Flight
by Uncursed
Summary: As a TIE fighter pilot, Imei shoots down any target she is set upon. She maintains a cold exterior, and bristles against authority; this proves difficult when she's assigned to the Finalizer, conflicting with Kylo Ren mere minutes after her arrival. However, a risky attraction soon arises- how will things play out? [Ren x OC]
1. Chapter 1 - Introduction

_ID: SF-63-7_

 _Species: Human/Atoan_

 _Gender: Female_

 _Age: 24_

 _Assignment: Pilot_

 _Affiliations: Special Forces_

The pale, angular man looked up from his datapad, and gave Imei a thin smile.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome aboard the _Finalizer,_ pilot; hopefully you will adjust to your new surroundings without much difficulty."

Imei nodded slightly, fixing her superior with a cool look.

"I'll neither enjoy nor dislike my stay here, Commander. I perform my duties with no regards to personal comfort."

Lennox felt slightly intimidated by Imei's confidence, as he was used to more cautious personnel; however, the pilot wasn't being outright rude _,_ so there wasn't really anything he could do about it.

"Escort this pilot to personnel habitation area 3-B, room number 5." Lennox addressed one of the two stormtroopers that flanked him, double-checking his datapad as he spoke.

"Yes, sir, right away." A stormtrooper stepped forward and placed himself next to Imei, his movements eerily mechanical.

Commander Lenoxx gave Imei one last tight-lipped smile, desperately hoping that she wouldn't turn out being a problem. It wasn't every day that the First Order took on a non-human, and definitely didn't tend to add them to elite forces.

Sure, the girl looked perfectly mortal on the outside, but there was a certain design of her internal organs that made her _quite_ unusual.

This fact alone was unnatural enough to set the commander on edge, and a frown pulled down the corners of his mouth as he watched the pilot disappear down a side hall.

* * *

The stormtrooper escorted Imei down a corridor and summoned a lift, shifting uncomfortably as the young woman's stare bored into the back of his head.

Neither the trooper nor Imei spoke as they entered the lift and shot upwards, though Imei had several burning questions regarding sanitation methods on-board. She hated bacteria with a passion, and nothing bothered her more than an unclean environment.

 _Maybe I'll ask later,_ Imei reassured herself.

After a few seconds, the lift reached its destination, and the pair exited together. The trooper led Imei to a long hall that split off into several doors and side paths; she imagined it would be very easy to get lost, if one didn't know exactly where to go.

Fortunately, Imei's escort knew his way through the ship, and guided her through hallways fluidly.

"We're almost there, ma'am," he said, leading her down a particularly tight corridor.

The duo were about the turn the corner, when a tall figure from the other side did so first, and barged directly into Imei. She stumbled backwards ungracefully, barely catching her fall.

Imei regained balance and looked upwards, fixing the new arrival with a frigid glare.

To her surprise, the male figure that loomed above her was masked, and wearing ridiculous black garb that covered his entire body. He looked like no other personnel Imei had seen so far, but his enigmatic appearance didn't deter her.

"Watch where you're going," she snapped, directing a glare at the eye-slits of her offender's mask. "Knocking over fellow staff is hardly professional."

The stormtrooper escorting Imei backed away from the scene slowly, knowing that things were going to take a turn for the worse.

"Do you know who you're speaking to?" The masked figure spoke, a roughly filtered voice scraping out of his mask.

Imei didn't of course, and remained in a frustrated silence.

"I am Lord Ren, leader of the Knights of Ren; I am not in the First Order _,_ but if I murdered you right now, I'm sure it would go unnoticed- that tends to be a perk when you're _one of the most important figures_ in the First Order's plans."

Imei retaliated as soon as Ren finished, an alarming red color blotching her cheeks. "Are you done with your temper tantrum yet, _Lord Ren?"_

Ren's fingers curled into tight fists; but Imei either didn't notice, or didn't care.

"I'll have you know that I'm one of the most valued pilots in this organization, so whatever meager influence you hold with the Order's leaders would not smooth over my sudden disappearance. I've wiped out more X-wings and other starfighters than you could possibly imagine- I have no idea what you're doing here, but you obviously aren't useful for battle, as that laughable attire would make combat far too difficult."

Imei took ragged breaths as she finished her outburst, a wild rage burning in her slate-coloured eyes. She stood her ground, glaring up at Ren, while he clenched and unclenched his fists furiously.

Ren wanted to choke the insolent woman _so badly_ , to reach out and wring her neck, but he knew there was some truth in her words; Hux would have his head if he so much as touched a good pilot.

After a few tense moments, with a nervous stormtrooper looking back and forth between Imei and Ren, the situation was defused.

Ren shoved past Imei, slamming her against the wall in the process, and continued down the corridor without another word.

"Let's get out of here." The stormtrooper pushed Imei forwards, forgetting all formalities.

Imei followed the trooper the rest of the way, rubbing her aching shoulder bitterly.

Soon after turning the corner, the two arrived at door number 5, Imei's designated living quarters.

The stormtrooper gave Imei the code to unlock the room, and turned to leave, when the young woman suddenly grabbed his armoured shoulder.

"Ma'am? Is something wrong?"

In a swift movement, Imei pulled off the stormtrooper's helmet, revealing a pair of panicked green eyes.

"Please return my helmet, ma'am! I'm not supposed to have it off during duty." The trooper's eyes quickly darted in both directions, making sure nobody had seen him yet.

"Tell me your ID number and I'll give it back," Imei responded calmly.

"My number's FO-1658." The stormtrooper snatched his helmet from Imei's hands and shoved it back on, shiny white plastic replacing his freckled skin.

"I always wondered what the face of a true coward looked like," Imei said, her words biting into him harshly. The whole time he had escorted her, the smallest things had made him nervous, so Imei had decided to cure him of this horrible condition. After all, there was no room for fear in a true fighter. "I'll remember your number, for any possible future uses."

The poor stormtrooper groaned internally. Had the woman really removed his helmet just to insult him?

Imei wondered if his days on the _Finalizer_ were usually this chaotic- she highly doubted it.

"Well, be off then," Imei said, waving her hand dismissively. Without waiting for a response, she entered her new living quarters, sliding the door closed behind her.

 _What a bore,_ she thought to herself. _Not even ten minutes on a new capital ship, and I've already made a mortal enemy. I hope I never have to encounter that horrible man, Lord Ren, ever again._

Quite unfortunately for Imei, she would be seeing the Knight of Ren much sooner than expected; of course, Imei couldn't know that- she followed her usual nighttime routine, unaware of the headaches the next day would yield.


	2. Chapter 2 - Humiliation

During her whole life, Imei had never experienced any difficulties with waking up on time; after all, she was a large fan of punctuality, and made sure that she was exactly where she needed to be, exactly _when_ she needed to be. For this reason, she was appropriately shocked when she woke up half an hour later than she was supposed to.

Imei sat up in bed, staring at her display pad in disbelief; the time read 06:04, and Imei was due to attend a meeting at 06:20, which left her a fairly small amount of time to get ready and fill her stomach.

 _How the hell did I manage to sleep through the alarm?_ Imei was furious at herself for the slip-up, but she would have to think about it later- there was no time for self-reflection at the moment.

Imei hurried out of her personal quarters with a black uniform clutched in her arms, determined to make it to the showers in time. She walked as fast as she could without actually jogging; it simply wouldn't do to cause a scene, and proper behavior in the corridors was crucial.

While all other personnel she passed by were already fully dressed in proper uniform, Imei was wearing basic sleeping attire; for this reason, she attracted a few odd looks, but ended up in front of the common showers without interruption.

Imei stripped, showered, and dried off as fast as she could manage; after hastily pulling on her uniform (minus the helmet), she stopped by her personal quarters to drop off her sleepwear.

As she did so, Imei checked her display pad, and ground her teeth with frustration- it was already 06:15, so there was no time for her to take breakfast. Imei also hadn't eaten anything the previous day due to the transfer, and she could already feel spikes of pain lance her abdomen due to lack of food.

 _Better hungry than late,_ Imei told herself. _I won't be hindered by a bit of pain._

Luckily, the room Imei needed to go to was fairly close by, so she could arrive on time if she left immediately. After double-checking the location of the meeting, Imei set off again, the heels of her boots striking against the metal floor in perfect tempo. As Imei strode down various hallways to her destination, heads turned slightly to watch her go by; this time, not because of what she was wearing, but because there was an air of frigid authority about her that demanded recognition. Imei was either oblivious to the attention, or she simply didn't care; either way, her stare stayed focused straight ahead the whole time, sleek black hair brushing against the collar of her uniform.

* * *

At exactly 06:19, Imei stood in front of a dull metal door. Access was granted by code, which was to be typed into a keypad located on the wall next to the door; this was no problem, as Imei had memorized the password the night before. She punched in the code, getting it right on the first try. With a hiss, the door slid open, and Imei immediately bristled when she saw who was on the other side.

Commander Lennox, as well as other personnel in TIE fighter pilot uniforms sat around an elliptical table; however, they were not the subject of Imei's fury. Instead, her icy glare was focused on a familiar black-robed figure who was positioned at one end of the table.

"You're just in time, SF-63-7. We were just about to start; please take a seat." Commander Lennox motioned towards the only available seat- which also happened to be the one right next to Lord Ren. Lennox sat on Ren's other side; Imei supposed that the empty seat next to Ren had not been a coincidence, as no sane being would want to sit next to the masked brute.

Before Imei could request standing rather than having to sit next to Ren, the vile man spoke up first.

"Commander, _this_ is the pilot you were talking about?" Lennox flinched at the outburst, suddenly wishing he didn't have to sit next to the bad-tempered Knight of Ren. "You must be mistaken," Ren continued, slamming a fist on the table. "There's no way I'm working with this harpy."

Though Ren's mask hid his face, and consequently his emotions, it was no feat to tell that he was absolutely livid. He still hadn't forgotten yesterday's sting, and held a deep loathing for the girl who had made a fool of him. Her lack of respect towards him was infuriating, to say the very least; but it was her lack of _fear_ of him that flared his temper. Ren's anger would have made any other man tremble in fear and back down; and yet that defenseless girl had defied him even then. The event had shaken his confidence, made him feel like he wasn't the one in charge- and he hated that feeling more than anything else.

Imei was about to retort, hot indignation boiling up inside her; however, she found herself at a loss for words, for a particularly painful spike of pain shot through her abdomen, slicing her malicious thoughts to shreds.

"I've obviously missed something," Lennox sighed. He had just _known_ the girl would end up being a problem from the very beginning, and here was his evidence; somehow SF-63-7 had gotten on the bad side of Lord Ren _on her_ _first day_ of reassignment. "Care to fill us in, pilot?"

Imei was about to express her colorful opinions of Lord Ren right then and there, and complain about the man's unprofessionalism; but when another horrible pain stabbed her insides, almost causing her to cry out, Imei decided to save it for another time.

"Lord Ren and I had an... Unpleasant run-in the other day, sir," Imei managed to force out. "I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, but I hope Lord Ren and I can both act like adults and move past the incident." Imei was lying through her teeth, as she was known to hold nasty grudges, but she needed the meeting to be over as soon as possible; she desperately needed to eat something, _anything_ to ease the pain in her stomach.

Lennox blinked at Imei's sudden change of heart, but wasted no time in inviting her to sit down again. This time, Ren didn't say anything, but his hostility was evident to Imei as she occupied the space next to him.

"So, let's begin…" Lennox cleared his throat. "Tomorrow, we're carrying out an important mission, to destroy a Resistance base located on Atollon."

The TIE fighter pilots around the table murmured with excitement, but returned to silence when Lennox cleared his throat pointedly. "Lord Ren has been assigned to this mission, so maintaining a good defense near to ground will be necessary, so he will remain unharmed. However, our approach to the planet will most likely not go unnoticed, so we can expect starfighters out-of-atmosphere."

Lennox pulled up a hologram of Atollon in the middle of the table, ghostly blue light from the image illuminating the attentive faces that beheld it. As Imei and the others watched, Lennox started mapping out a strategy, moving holographic starfighters into their desired positions.

" _Hey, you."_ A whispered, male voice came from Imei's right side, and she turned her head. A man who looked to be slightly older than Imei was addressing her, uncaring that he was missing out on the Commander's speech.

"Do you fly in the black, or in the blue?" The man continued addressing Imei, despite the glare she shot him.

"Black," She replied, after a pause; the man didn't seem like he was going to leave her alone without getting an answer.

"I had you figured for a vac-head," he responded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Imei turned away deliberately, signalling that the conversation was over. She had no time for idle conversation.

Commander Lennox continued explaining his strategy, and Imei made sure to latch onto every word. After about ten minutes, Imei's stomach was absolutely killing her, but Lennox finally started to wrap up the meeting.

"So, for this reason, I'll have the pilots in the Death Squadron lead the attack out-of-atmosphere, and have the TIE/fo pilots lead the inner-atmosphere attack." Lennox dismissed the hologram, and folded his hands neatly on the table in front of him.

"Any questions, pilots?"

For a second, nobody moved, and then a brown-haired woman near to the door spoke up.

"Sir, I think that SF-63-7 should fly in the blue for this mission, while Rogue and I take her place. The girl will be out-of-sync after her transfer- we wouldn't want her to get stitched on her first mission here." The woman had a sly air about her, one that made Imei question her motives; but Lennox furrowed his brow thoughtfully, and nodded after a moment of thought.

"Perhaps you're right, SF-45-7. I'll reassign SF-63-7 to the inner-atmosphere attack."

Imei honestly didn't care much. As long as she could continue raining wrath down upon the Resistance, she would be satisfied.

"So that concludes this meeting; we approach Atollon tomorrow morning at 05:15. Be present at the main hangar at exactly that time- not a second later."

A resounding 'Yes, sir' resulted from the Commander's order, and Imei exhaled with relief. She was _this_ close to being free, and resolving her increasing hunger pains. Her head was beginning to feel light, and she was becoming concerned about her situation, especially because she wasn't usually this weak.

"Before I dismiss you- SF-63-7?" Lennox addressed Imei, and she turned to face him sluggishly. "Are you alright? You look quite ill; we can't be sending sick pilots on top-priority missions."

Imei was mortified. To think that the Commander would bring up her condition, in front of her new colleagues, and _especially_ in front of Ren- it was infuriating.

"I'm fine, sir; but thank you for your concern," Imei lied, her head spinning madly.

"Are you sure? Because you need to be in top shape for tomorrow-"

Imei promptly passed out.

When she came to a few seconds later, her face was pressed into rough fabric that smelled faintly of smoke.

Imei bolted upright, panic hotwiring her system. Her head was still spinning, and she turned to face who she had collapsed onto.

Of course, it was Lord Ren.

Imei's face flushed bright red, and she backed away from Ren rapidly.

"I apologize," Imei muttered, trying to ignore the badly-disguised chuckles in the background.

She stood from her seat, and all eyes followed her as she did. She made her way around the table, heat rising to her face as she tried to walk straight, pain lancing through her midsection.

Imei returned to her living quarters, struggling to keep her composure.

* * *

For what seemed like an eternity, Imei sat on the edge of her bed, running the event over and over again in her mind. She became increasingly mortified, and ran fingers through her shoulder-length hair roughly.

 _Passing out is one thing,_ Imei mused, _but doing so during a meeting, and on my first day; that's just an embarrassment._

Eventually, Imei left her quarters to get food at the canteen, eating the bland rations crumb by crumb, alone at a table intended for twenty.

At that moment, she made a decision.

 _I still have a chance to make up for my unprofessionalism,_ Imei told herself. _If I do a good job tomorrow, I can recover from today's incident._

Imei stood with a new-found determination, knowing that she would redeem herself soon enough.

Imei assumed things to go the way they always did; she would take down a few X-wings, dodge a few shots, and it would be a wrap. However, the next day would not go to plan, and Imei would go through a hell she never could have expected.


End file.
